Of Mittens and Mistletoe
by rodeo-duck
Summary: Wizards mistletoe is a tricky thing. So are cold hands. Hermione x Ginny


**Disclaimer: **All characters mentioned and the Three Broomsticks are not mine and never shall be. D:

**Note: **All grammatical mistakes are my own creation and I've loved them very much

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Her hands were cold. She had just slipped her threadbare mittens into Hermione's hand as they walked through the streets of Hogsmeade. 

Not a word was said - a glance and a wan smile her only reassurance to the squeeze after initial contact. It wasn't really anything – she knew the Weasley's didn't have much to spend on – especially on something as superfluous as dragon hide gloves – but somewhere along the line, Hermione had decided that it was her job to care for the youngest Weasley. Girls had to watch out for each other after all. With this in mind, she suddenly swerved off course – heading straight into _Wilma's Winter Wonderland_.

The wonders of magic never ceased to amaze Hermione, inside the seemingly second hand store it could be found rich multitude of winter gear, for any climate and for any purpose.

"Consider it a Christmas present", she said, gesturing to the vast array of gloves and mittens. "Anything you want."

"Oh but I couldn't," Ginny started to protest, "They're much to expensive!"

Hermione suddenly swung Ginny around - their noses almost touching - and in a mock scolding tone said, "Nothing, and I mean nothing, is too expensive for you, Ginny. And besides, it's Christmas time. If I can't spend my money on you, then who can I spend my money on? Now go on and pick something."

Giving a gentle shove to get her moving, Ginny looked awestruck at the enormity of varieties of every type of glove and mitten conceivable. She looked back at Hermione who only gave her a reassuring smile.

It was only a few moments perhaps, Ginny rapidly returning with a pair of mittens that Hermione though suited her precisely. She looked skeptical as she approached, twiddling the price tag between her fingers.

"Are you sure this is okay?" She asked for the second time – still uncertain - even after Hermione's vigorous reassuring nods.

Hermione grasped her small wrist; steadying the only hint that Ginny was uncomfortable with the idea of someone spending so much money on her. She smiled her reassurance – almost making it in time to turn toward to counter.

Instead Hermione found Ginny's lips upon hers, lingering there just enough for it throw Hermione completely off balance – not quite sure to make of the warm feeling spreading to the tips of her toes.

No explanation was given for the rash act – and frankly, Hermione was glad for the reprieve because she didn't think her brain was up to the arduous task of trying to figure out what exactly it all meant. So instead she smiled genuinely – if not a little confused at a blushing Ginny – glad that she liked her present as much as she did - taking the gloves and heading toward the checkout counter. She paid for the gloves – Ginny still faintly pink - trying to keep as much composure as she could for the lady at the check out.

It was snowing when they got back outside, Ginny gratefully mumbling her third thanks, gloves slipping on. It was Hermione who took her hand this time – for it was something of habit, walking back toward the Three Broomsticks - where they knew the male half of their quartet would be found.

What she didn't understand however was all the hoot and wolf whistles as she entered the door with Ginny - looking over only to see that she was being of no help and blushing again. She nudged Ginny in the ribs, for their jibing was starting to irk her - throwing her hands up in frustration at the lack of Ginny's help. It was there that she saw the culprit of all the catcalls. There, right above both their heads was a spruce of mistletoe.

Now Hermione was a logical one, not to give in to the juvenile pranks of horny teenage boys. She huffed in frustration, as time after time her feet would not lift off the floor and out of the threshold.

"It's useless," she head Ginny mumble next to her, "This is wizard's mistletoe. It won't let you go until you've actually kissed. No matter how hard you curse it." And suddenly Hermione understood why Ginny was blushing so profusely. Their last kiss had only been twenty minutes ago- but that was private. To be kept between the girls themselves. This, well this was a spectacle for all to see. Hermione was able to turn just enough to face Ginny who was still embarrassed about their last encounter.

She was flaming red she knew, but Hermione composed enough dignity to keep as straight face as Ginny's lips grew nearer. "I hope this satisfies that bloody mistletoe" was all she said, pressing her lips unto Ginny's. She was warm with blushing, her hands squeezing Hermione's as if making sure it was real and not some dream.

They broke apart – a soft sigh barely heard – her feet suddenly freed from their bind. She knew the boys were still catcalling, but their whistles suddenly became unimportant as she grasped Ginny's warm hand heading toward the booth where there was a pair of blazing cheeks even redder than the girls'.

There would be time to figure it out all later, she thought to herself - but for now, all she wanted was a warm butterbeer.


End file.
